When I finally clawed my way back to consciousness, I found myself lying flat on a crisp white hospital bed.
The faint, sharp tang of antiseptic hung in the air right under my nose, and a smooth, blank white ceiling stretched out above my head.
I slowly rolled my neck to one side, dragged my gaze downward, and there she was: Eva, curled up asleep on the edge of my bed, dead to the world.
Her long, inky black hair spilled loose in messy waves, part fanned out across her arm where she rested her head, and the rest dangling over the side of the mattress.
Deep dark circles bruised the skin under her eyes, and even in sleep, her eyebrows stayed drawn together in a faint, tight furrow. It was obvious how much emotional agony she had been going through.
I just lay there quietly watching her,
